Heart Fire.

Chapter Nine: “Pastor wey dey stonewall.”

This Chapter has more tension so just prepare yourself, loool.😂

Thank you for your beautiful comments, I see them.

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Solape’s P.O.V:

Solape woke up with that kind of heaviness that sits behind the ribs… the type that comes from unfinished conversations and feelings you’re trying to pretend you don’t have.

Her first instinct was to grab her phone.

Nothing from PK.

She inhaled sharply.

“Okay… fine.”

She opened their chat before she could stop herself and typed:

Solape → PK:
“Good morning. Hope you slept well?”

She stared at the sent message like she could will it to behave.

Ten minutes passed.
Thirty minutes.
One hour.

Nothing.

Her chest felt stupidly tight.

She threw the phone on the bed, marched to her bathroom and began brushing her teeth like the toothbrush offended her ancestors.

What is all this? What exactly is going on?

When she finished getting ready, she checked again.

Still nothing.

She hissed, grabbed her bag, headed out to run errands.

Her phone was silent the entire drive.

At 11:27 a.m., while picking out peppers at the supermarket, her phone finally buzzed.

Her heart jumped… traitor… and she checked it.

PK:
“Good morning. Yes, thank you.”

Nothing else.

No question.
No warmth.
Not even an emoji to soften the blow.

Her mouth fell open.

Excuse me??

She typed, then deleted.
Typed again, then deleted harder.

Finally she pocketed the phone with an aggressive sigh.

“So this is how you’re behaving? Pastor wey dey stonewall? Okay.”

As if on cue, another notification came in.

Dele:
“Chef, thank you again for yesterday. Can I take you out properly? Nothing serious. Just a ‘thank you’ for blessing my kitchen. 7 p.m.? I’ll pick you up.”

She stared at the screen.

Now she believed Miriam and NJ. He liked her. The whole thing was a ploy. You had to admire his style though.

So why didn’t her stomach jump? Why didn’t her heart faster?

Because… She didn’t want Dele.
She wanted…

See she was tired of feeling stupid. Tired of feeling like she was waiting for PK to control how she felt.

Before she could think too long:

Solape → Dele:
“Sure. Sounds nice.”

She hit send. And immediately regretted it.

But she didn’t take it back.

*****************************

She had chosen a simple outfit. A white top. Dark jeans. Gold earrings. Nothing date-like. Nothing suggestive. Just… decent.

But when she stepped into the restaurant with Dele, she froze. This wasn’t just any place.

This was the place PK told her about last week — the one he said had “the best seafood suya in Lagos.”

She swallowed.

It’s a coincidence. It’s fine.

Dele spoke as he held out her sit for her. “I know I have said this before, but you look great, stunning even.” he said warmly.

She smiled. “Thanks. You too.”

They ordered. They talked food. They talked business. They talked Lagos traffic (because every Lagos conversation MUST talk traffic).

He leaned in a little more than usual.

She leaned back a little more than usual.

It wasn’t awkward. It wasn’t flirty. It was a good conversation… between friends.

There was nothing here and it was better she told Dele that before he got any further ideas.

She was sipping her chapman, thinking about how to broach the conversation when Dele suddenly brightened.

“Oh, guess who just walked in… PK!” He said without waiting for her to actually guess.

“What??” she choked.

He laughed. “Yeah… he just walked in with Tega. His friend.”

Solape turned.

And her heart stopped.

PK.

In a crisp shirt. With another man. Walking to a reserved table.

She froze.

Completely.

Their eyes collided in that instant of oh no.
Everything around her blurred.

She saw his jaw tighten. Her stomach flipped. Dele was smiling at the menu, absolutely unaware.

She forced herself to focus on Dele’s story about a tomato supplier.

But her pulse was thundering.
Her skin buzzing.
Her entire spirit yelling: Oh my God!!!

Dele raised his glass. “To thank you properly.”

She smiled weakly, as she lifted her cup.

PK’s P.O.V:

PK saw Solape before she saw him. With Dele… again.

This was not how he envisioned his evening.

He came here to welcome Tega, his best friend who had just arrived from the US.
Eat. Catch Up. Go home.

He did NOT come here to see her on a date.

He almost missed his chair when he saw her. Almost lost balance.
Almost embarrassed himself in the presence of the Holy Spirit, the angels and witnesses.

And Dele?? Dele was smiling like he belonged there.

PK’s eye twitched.

He kept his face calm.

But inside?

Chaos.
Pure, unholy chaos.

He answered questions with half-brained responses.
He nodded at the wrong moments.
He said “amen” to something that wasn’t a prayer.

His friend eventually asked, “Are you okay?”

PK coughed into his water. “Fine. Yes. Very fine.”

But he wasn’t fine.

Because every time he looked up, there she was.

Laughing.

Alive. Bright. Comfortable. With… Dele.

The name tasted like chloroquine on his tongue.

He is still your flock.

His spirit muttered something unfortunate:

God, why? Why here? Why now? Why this man? Just Why?

At one point, their eyes locked.

It felt like a plug went into a socket.

And he looked away so fast his neck cracked.

He wanted to get up.
He wanted to leave.
He wanted to rebuke the devil.
He wanted to rebuke himself.
He wanted to drag her out by the elbow and say, “What are you doing here?? On a date… with another man?!”

He did none of those things.

He just sat there, stabbed his chicken with confusing aggression, and pretended to be unbothered.

“PK… did you hear what I said? Where is your mind?”

Korede pulled himself out of his mind and answered his friend, “Nothing really. Just distracted.”

Tega followed his eyes to Solape, “I can see that. Who’s the Babe?”

“She is one of my church members. She is out with another church member” Korede said in clipped tones.

“Korede,” Tega said as he leaned his head to look at him closely, “The way you are talking. The way you behaved when you saw her… She seems to be more than a church member.”

Korede ran his palm over his face.

“I like her… a lot. I thought it was mutual. We were talking and then here she is on a date with Dele.”

Tega was silent for a moment, then he said, “Let’s not assume. Let’s go over to say hi after dinner. Feel the pulse.”

“Ok… You are right.” Korede answered.

“And stop looking at her table. No dey behave like novice this guy” Tega said with a sneer.

Korede laughed.

Solape’s P.O.V:

She had almost regained her composure by dessert.

Almost.

Dele was talking about something… she couldn’t for the life of her remember. Truthfully, she could not remember like 70% of their conversation since PK had come in. She had stolen quick glances at his direction when he wasn’t looking.

This was too much.

Then she saw him stand with his friend and walked towards their table.

Solape’s heart slammed so hard she nearly knocked over her glass.

No escape. He was here and… She did not have any words.

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“Good evening, Dele.” He greeted Dele first.

“Good evening sir!” Dele stood up, respectful, oblivious. “Hope you’re enjoying your evening, PK.”

PK gave a warm, polite smile. Then he turned.

“Good evening, Solape.”

Her throat went dry. “Good evening,” she managed.

His eyes dipped briefly to the table — two plates, one shared dessert, her lip gloss shining in the restaurant lighting.

He inhaled quietly.

“This is Tega, my friend.” He said, “This is Dele and Solape, members of my church”

Tega murmured his greeting. Solape noticed he had a look in his eye. Why was PK’s friend judging her?

Enjoy your evening,” PK said, voice clipped but controlled.

Then, to Dele: “We’ll talk later.”

Dele sat back down, shaking his head.
“Ah. PK is EVERYWHERE. God abeg.”

Solape forced a smile.

But she couldn’t breathe properly again until she got home.

PK’s P.O.V:

Korede moved from their table before his heart betrayed him.

He felt Tega’s hand on his back, “Guy, just look forward till we leave this restaurant. Don’t look back again.”

When they finally stepped out into the night air, “I think you should talk to her.” Tega said. “From what I saw, she is not unaffected by you.”

Korede nodded.

Yeah.

Dates with Dele.

Yeah.

One thing was sure, he needed time to think on what he wanted with Solape and how he was going to get it.

Solape’s P.O.V:

Dinner ended.

On the drive home, they had had a long talk. She had told him head on that she only saw him as a friend. To his credit, he didn’t deny that he had been trying to date her. He also took it very well.

“No wahala.” He had said, “We’d just be food friends then”

She laughed.

When he dropped her home. She thanked him politely. They said their goodbyes.

She went inside. And she collapsed on her bed with a long groan.

She didn’t even like Dele.
She didn’t want Dele.
But her heart had been in her throat the entire night because—

PK cared.
He CLEARLY cared.

But caring in silence is not the same as speaking.

She grabbed her phone.

No message from him.

Fine. No problem.
She wouldn’t message him either.

Thirty minutes passed.

Her chest tightened.

She could not hold off any longer. She messaged him.

Solape → PK:
“Hi. Hope you got home safe?”

He replied twenty minutes later.

PK:
“Yes. Thanks.”

Thanks??

THANKS???

She stared at the message like it slapped her.

She tried again.

Solape:
“Everything okay?”

Another clipped brick:

PK:
“All good. Have a restful night.”

She dropped her phone.

“No. No no no no. What is this? Why is he acting like I’m just his church member??”

Well… but you are. And who can blame him. You were just on a date, chummy with Dele.

She flung her pillow across the room.

But this started before the date.

“This man wants to stress my destiny.”

Fine. If this is how he wanted to play it. Two could play.

Two days passed and not a word, a reel, a peep or even a fullstop.

Her whole body was fully aware that they were not talking. How was he doing it. She could not. She sent him a message.

And waited.

Seconds. Minutes. Hours. 1 Day. Nothing.

Oh so now, he is ghosting me. Wow? Really?

She was livid! She called NJ and Miriam immediately.

Only Miriam picked up, but both their faces were in view.

“Wassup” Miriam said, “we were watching a movie.”

“How was your date with the Tapas Chef?” NJ asked

Solape inhaled deeply, dramatically, like someone preparing to recount a war.

“Let me start from the beginning.”

She told them everything.

Everything.

The thank-you dinner with Dele.
PK walking in.
Their awkward greeting.
PK’s face.
PK’s silence afterwards.
His cold reply.
And the ghosting that followed.

“Before the date sef,” she began, “PK had already started acting somehow.”

Miriam leaned forward. “Ehn? What happened?”

Solape clicked her tongue.
“He replied my message like an impatient customer service agent. ‘Yes. Thanks.’ ‘All good.’ ‘Rest well.’ I almost slapped my phone.”

NJ gasped. “Wait—THAT was before the dinner?”

“Yes! Before!” She threw her hands in the air. “I thought okay, maybe long day, maybe pastoral stress. But now? He is ghosting me!”

Miriam:
“Hmmm. Suspicious.”

NJ’s eyes narrowed.
“Question… did he see your Tapas story? The cozy one?”

Solape blinked.
“What cozy one?”

“The one of you and Dele laughing over the pan like a married couple in a cooking show!” NJ said. “Check your archive.”

Solape switched apps so fast her wrist cracked. Scrolled, scrolled—

There it was.

Her story from Naija Tapas.
Cute angle.
Warm light.
Dele handing her something to taste.
Her laughing.
Deep laughter.

And then she checked the viewers list.

Her heart dropped to her knees.

PK viewed it.
Not only that— He viewed it twice.

She shut her eyes.
“O. My. God.”

NJ folded her arms smugly.
“That’s why.”

Miriam put her face in her palm.
“Awww babe. He’s jealous. It’s not great behaviour… but it’s understandable.”

NJ:
“I won’t say we told you so.”

Solape glared.
“You literally JUST said it.”

NJ:
“It slipped. But we did tell you not to go to Naija Tapas. Then you compounded it with a cozy dinner…”

Solape sank into her pillows dramatically.
“But it wasn’t a date! I told him. I TOLD Dele I only see him as a friend!”

NJ raised one eyebrow, logic loading:
“Okay. Remove yourself from your body.
Now imagine you’re a man who likes you.
Remember the way he looked at you at the hangout.
Remember last Sunday.
Remember how intense you people were staring at each other.
Now, AFTER ALL THAT, you open Instagram—
and you see…”

She held up her hand like a cinema screen.

“Your Fire Girl… in soft lighting… laughing with another man… tasting food from the same spoon…”

Solape winced.
“I didn’t taste from the same spoon!”

NJ:
“But in the VIDEO it looks like you did.”

Silence.

Solape deflated.
“Oh.”

Miriam nodded slowly.
“So… maybe that’s why he acted cold. It’s not the healthiest reaction. But it’s human.”

NJ:
“Key point though… he should communicate. Not behave like … Anyway, if he doesn’t talk, you should talk o.

Miriam:
“And thank God our Solape doesn’t fear conversation.”

Solape sat up, eyes blazing with righteous and romantic fury.

“Oh, I’m going to TALK his ear off.”

NJ:
“Okay easy, Princess Azula. Don’t burn the man. Just… ask him clearly. Sunday after church.”

Miriam:
“And wear red again. Confuse his destiny.”

Solape groaned into her pillow.
“God, why is liking someone so stressful?”

NJ:
“Because it’s PK. That’s why.”

She hissed.

But she also smiled.

Tomorrow would come.
And Sunday?

Sunday, she would get answers.

One way or another.

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Author’s Note: Now, I am pitying PK and hoping that Solape won’t talk his ears off, I mean he does deserve it after ghosting! A whole pastor ooo.😏

To Catch up: Read Chapter one here, Chapter two here, Chapter three here, Chapter Four here, and Chapter Five here, Chapter Six here, Chapter Seven here, and Chapter Eight here.

See you next week.❤️